


A Twisted Memory (ON HOLD)

by DarkCanid19



Series: Living Virus [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gay, M/M, Sequel, another - Freeform, yes read this it's not cancer I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkCanid19/pseuds/DarkCanid19
Summary: It's been a year since William Afton and Peter Graven have defeated Cassidy. Just as they thought their life was finally normal again, things get much worse. Just as William feared, some of his old creations have awoken again to hunt him down. But it's who that has control of them that scares him the most; Michael Afton, his own son, has arisen from the ashes and is determined to make sure his father never does the same ever again. While William conspires on ways to defeat him, Peter begins to wonder if these will be his last moments on earth.
Relationships: Jeremy Fitzgerald/Original Character(s), William Afton | Dave Miller/Original Character(s)
Series: Living Virus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647754
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

_Why did he abandon me? Why did he abandon_ us _? Why did he let them destroy us? Where are we? Where are you? How long has it been since I’ve seen the light of the moon?_

That final thought was vanquished when something in its brain clicked. He was still out there. And he was calling to them.

The Wolf began clawing away at the dirt packed around it, itching for a way to break free from its tomb. It could sense the others waking up around it as well. Only a few inches and it could breathe again…

Finally it broke through the surface, using its massive claws to help heave itself out of the ground. A deep breath of fresh air with the wind through its fur was just enough to cause it to howl in glee. The growls and snarls of the others followed, and soon they surfaced as well.

Their mission was clear. Their master was waiting for them. But first, reinforcements.

The Wolf stood back on its hind legs, letting out a deep, low howl. It then leapt forwards onto all fours, running through the brush and onwards to their destination, the other three at its heels. Freddy, his steps lumbered and heavy, yet powerful; Bonnie, the swiftest, though his labored and snarly breathing could be heard from a mile away; Foxy, pelting away alongside his leader, a bloodthirsty and hungry look in his burning orange eyes. But someone was missing. A forgotten beat in their tempo of five. Surely she had to be around here somewhere, and not forgotten like the last time. Then, finally a true mission. The one thing they were built for: Search, seize, and kill.

And absolutely nothing could stand in their way.


	2. Aw Shit, Here We Go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and William take a trip to the old Afton Residence, sparking some new questions and ideas. Meanwhile, the Hunt begins for the Twisted Ones.

Hurricane, for being in the deserts of Utah, was surprisingly _green_ this time of year. Among the many cacti, tiny flowers bloomed, some white, some pink or yellow. But the sand and dry seasons didn’t stop a forest from growing on the outskirts of the town.

The place was known for its freak storms that appeared from out of nowhere, which was most likely where it got its name from. Luckily, tornado season wasn’t that harsh, as it was situated just outside of the dry line. But that didn’t mean that the thunderstorms passed over Hurricane as well. Floods were common in between spring and summer, but they tended to stray from the largest part of town, which contained some of its most famous buildings.

In fact, another thing Hurricane was known for was being the home town of Fazbear Entertainment, which was a franchise created specifically around pizza, robots, and sweaty toddlers. The worst part about it was that hardly anyone knew about what had really happened, only having snippets and rumors about murders and hauntings surrounding the establishments.

The funny thing was that the whole thing used to be fake. Freddy and his friends were all fictional characters from a cheesy horror game series that became famous for some odd reason.

Peter knew better.

He had thought that his favorite thing of all time had been just that: Fake. He had mastered it, perfecting it, even earning himself a rank among the best of the best. His life was somewhat normal until he received a strange letter in the mail.

It was from the real Fazbear Entertainment, asking him to work for them to help design a new game. It seemed normal enough, knowing Scott and his crazy new ideas. Peter accepted, not knowing the truth behind the matter.

Within hours, he encountered the one person that he never hoped to meet in real life: William Afton, the renowned murderer and culprit of the Missing Children’s Incident. The man had been searching for a way out of the game’s code, and the only way to do that was through a human host. And that host would be Peter.

He was put through a series of tests, or Trials, as Afton called them. He apparently passed with flying colors, marking him as a perfect host. But over the little time Peter had spent with William, he had grown to like him — and not in a normal way, either.

After merging, their true enemy had sworn to destroy them. But the two got to her first, ridding of all traces of the One Who You Should Not Have Killed. Cassidy had never been seen again afterwards, hopefully having moved on to a better life.

Now, a year later, Peter and William were still together, trying their best to live a normal life. Every day seemed the same, molding together in one giant loop. That is, until just this morning.

Peter whacked away another branch sticky with sap. Under his feet, twigs snapped and crackled like a bunch of tiny firecrackers. Like his trip to Fredbear’s a year ago, this place was horribly overgrown with plant life.

A crow cawed from above him, nearly scaring him out of his skin. He internally swore at it, continuing to struggle on. The path soon disappeared into vines and ferns, becoming invisible. Now his only guide was the voice in his head.

**_We aren’t lost. Just keep going straight._ **

_You said that an hour ago._

William scoffed, falling silent again. The virus-turned-shared-consciousness began quietly plotting nature’s demise.

Alas, within fifteen minutes, Peter had to stop and rest. His lungs felt like they were going to explode, and with each step his legs obtained a new spasm of pain. He sat on an old log, brushing off a bit of dirt. He absent-mindedly watched a snail make its way across his foot (rather fast, to be honest) as he caught his breath. For an hour he had been trudging through the woods to find some abandoned thing that William wouldn’t say what it was. It was annoying, knowing that traveling all this way could have been for nothing.

 ** _Trust me; It’ll be worth it,_** William chimed in. **_All I’m saying is that you’d best jot a couple notes down when we get there._**

But _when_ would they get there? Five minutes? Another hour? _A day_?

**_Keep walking, and you’ll find out._ **

Peter growled in exasperation, standing back up and walking back into the trees again (after carefully removing the snail from his shoe, of course).

Then the trees began thinning out after a couple minutes. Was that a good sign? He hoped it was. His prayers were answered when a large house came in sight, the walls completely overrun with plants.

Luckily it seemed small enough to be able to explore within a couple hours. To be honest, Peter was expecting something like an unused pizzeria or something.

“Oh, it’s _much_ more important than that.”

Peter turned his head to acknowledge William’s sudden presence next to him. The older glanced at him for a moment, then walked ahead to try the door. When he discovered it was locked, he began tearing stray vines and branches away from the area in search of something.

“Damned key was always getting lost,” he muttered under his breath. “I swear, if Michael kept it and it burned with him…”

“Why not kick the door down?” Peter offered, crossing his arms and watching his boyfriend relentlessly search.

William stopped. “That’s an idea,” he finally said, standing straight. He stepped back once, then struck out with one foot, the door instantly flying open. It surprised Peter to see that it wasn’t knocked off its hinges.

But then William’s words from before struck him; _I swear, if Michael kept the key…_ Did that mean what he thought it meant?

“Home, sweet home,” William cheered sarcastically, doing a short mock bow to allow Peter to step inside.

So this was it. The old Afton residence. It didn’t look like much at all. The living room was the first to be seen, and it looked less run-down than Peter expected it to be. It was also scarily familiar, reflecting the room seen in Sister Location after every night had been completed. The same TV, the same lamp, even the same shade of blue couch from the FNaF 4 minigames. An old, moldy popcorn container was on the floor, its contents rotted away with tiny seedlings sprouted from the remains. What was scarier was the large blotch of blood in front of the couch.

“What the hell?” Peter asked before he could stop himself.

“Elizabeth had an odd sense of getting things done,” William replied matter-of-factly.

“Must take after her father.”

That earned Peter a harsh, yet playful glare.

“It wasn’t just her, though. There were three others under the influence of Ennard’s personality. At least, from what I’ve heard. When Micheal was scooped, I was still rotting in that rabbit suit in the saferoom at Jr’s.”

Peter blinked, trying to process that. So Ennard was a singular personality after all.

He swiveled on his heel to see the other side of the room. It was cluttered with a few plants, but underneath them was a mess of papers and boxes and files. Beyond that, an old door stood. Its white paint had dulled tremendously over the years.

 _Looks like Michael was busy,_ Peter thought. It wasn’t turned towards William, thought the other would most likely hear it anyways. But he either ignored it or didn’t hear it when he continued staring at the blood that stained the carpet.

So, Peter took the liberty to continue on, stepping carefully over the papers and to the door. He opened it with a loud and protesting screech, then nearly screamed when he was met with a horrifying and rotted version of Plushtrap, who had fallen from his chair and onto the floor. Even then, he still came up to Peter’s knees, and he finally understood why Michael would have been terrified of this vile contraption. It didn’t even look this bad in VR. But then again, that was in a game, not in real life.

He walked around the rabbit, opening the door across from the living room. He instantly recognized it to be a kitchen, but it was hardly pristine at all. Pots and pans, along wit ha lot of utensils, littered the floor and counters. The oven was half-open, rusted so completely that the white surface had turned into a burnt orange-red. The granite countertops were cracked, let alone the tile flooring. The fridge was knocked over as if on purpose, what could have been its contents turned into plant fodder, just as the popcorn had been.

What was more was that there was a massive heap of metal in the corner. Moving closer, Peter could make out a large endoskeleton that looked like it had been brutally torn apart just for the heck of it. One eye — an orange one — remained in its socket, while the other — silver — was left on the floor for anyone to trip on. It was the eyes that told Peter who this was supposed to be. After realizing that, he finally noticed the dagger-like teeth and claws.

Someone must not have liked Nightmare Chica all that much.

It made sense that there was no outer costume. All of that was just an illusion. It was what was underneath that was real and lethal.

“Looks like Michael didn’t appreciate my inventions.”

Peter screamed that time. He wanted to slap William so bad for doing that. The older made a quiet, mumbly apology before looking past Peter again to look at the remains of Chica.

“Then again, I did use that to scare the shit out of him,” he added. He crouched down to pick up the silver eye, turning it over a couple times before stuffing it in his pocket. “I also assume that Plushtrap was his doing as well.”

“He didn’t look all that bad. Old and rotten maybe, but not torn in half,” Peter explained.

William nodded curtly, disappearing through the door again. Peter did his best to follow him, but was quickly lost when he found the other two doors already open. So, he tried the one across the hall next to the one that led to the living room.

He found himself inside a girl’s room, which was slightly obvious because of how pink everything was. A picture frame that encased an old painting of a sunflower was on the floor, the glass shattered. A smaller version of Mangle — a prototype, most likely — laid scattered across the floor, an eye once again threatening to help someone break their neck. On the bed, which lay on the far side of the room, the sheets were torn and rotted. On top a dirt-covered pillow rested a Circus Baby plush; the one seen in Help Wanted. It was almost as huge as Plushtrap, and it chilled Peter to the bone.

This was no doubt Elizabeth’s room.

“Peter! Look what I found!”

Peter bolted out of the room and ran to the source of William’s voice. He entered another bedroom, and this time it wasn’t a stranger at all. Michael had definitely slept here.

William was sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed, a large steel box resting on his lap. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. It was _the_ box. And it was _open_.

“What’s inside?” Peter blurted, the theorist in him taking over.

William winced. “Something no one should bear witness to,” he answered. He patted the empty space next to him, offering for Peter to take a seat. He did so, nearly hurling when he caught the stench from what had been hidden for so long.

It was the corpse of a boy, who looked to be only around eight years old. His head was covered in blood and bandages, the skin peeling away to decaying muscle and old bone. This explained what happened after ’83.

Peter had to cover his mouth and nose to keep from puking. It was disgusting, not to mention wrong. It reminded him of just how twisted William’s mind had been back then.

“Why would you even—“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before gagging again.

William shut the lid carefully, clicking the locks shut. He closed his eyes, and suddenly his presence in Peter’s mind just went away. That was never a good sign.

The only time William ever shut his thoughts away from Peter was when he was either plotting something, hiding something out of guilt, or mourning. Sometimes it was two, sometimes it was all three. Peter figured that it was guilt and mourning.

After what seemed like an eternity, William finally set the box aside and walked off again, without any words. Peter watched the door he exited from for a moment, then his eyes returned to his surroundings. The same bedroom from FNaF 4 looked back at him, thought it was older and a lot more festered and it stunk like hell. One door on the closet was hanging on one hinge, and another endoskeleton was hanging out of it, mangled and broken. The pointed ears, elongated snout, orange eyes, and long hook told him that it was Nightmare Foxy.

Shaking the memory of the box away, Peter left the room and continued exploring. He examined the final room from the main hall, entering what looked like a massive workshop. Parts and wires were scattered everywhere, along with blueprints and tools. The other three nightmares were in here, still somewhat intact. The most surprising thing in sight was a familiar rotted rabbit suit that sat crumpled in one corner. It was empty and in pieces, suggesting that William had in fact changed suits (yet another theory proven).

But that was before Peter saw large iron doors leading to a well-known elevator. The facility was under this house. But apparently Michael had done everything in his power to block it off, due to the large wooden planks that blocked off any access inside.

If Peter was paying attention any longer, he could have caught a glimpse of a single Minireena that had attempted to crawl up the elevator shaft.

Peter scooped up a couple blueprints into his arms, wanting to go over them later, and left. He ran into William, who was patiently waiting for him outside the door.

“About damn time,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

Peter groaned loudly. “I don’t want to walk all that way again!” he protested.

William rolled his eyes. He then gently grabbed one of Peter’s arms, and suddenly the world went lime green for a moment. He hated teleportation, for it always made him sick to his stomach every time. The further the distance travelled, the worse the nausea.

Peter’s apartment soon came into view. He sighed in contempt, plopping down on his bed and screaming into his pillow. As much as he loved to explore these things, it always ended up tearing his body apart in the end. He let the blueprints drop to the floor, forgetting about them for the time being. While he suffocated himself in his pillow, William took the liberty to give the younger a back massage.

“You know, that was the first time I had seen any trace of what Michael had done in years,” he said. “It kind of scares me, seeing how desperate he was for answers.”

“Mmmhphfmmrm,” Peter agreed, his face still buried.

“He must have really wanted to make things right again.”

“Fmmhnmmmfm.”

“I guess it just only scares me because I know that it was me who drove him to the brink of insanity in the first place.”

“Mmmhmmmf.”

It was quiet for a couple moments as William elaborated on that reply.

“Do you think I was really that bad?” he asked, a hint of despair in his voice.

“PHMMMMHMM!” Peter protested, growling afterwards in denial.

William rolled his eyes, moving his hands up to Peter’s neck. The other exhaled in bliss, relaxing his aching muscles. In the back of his mind, he hoped this wasn’t going where he thought it was going.

“Do I deserve punishment?~” William cooed, leaning forwards to whisper in Peter’s ear, his breath tickling the skin.

That’s when Peter lifted his head to glare at his boyfriend. “Why the hell are you so horny all the time?” he muttered, plopping his head back down.

“Only because you’re so beautiful,” William replied instantly, which was somewhat concerning.

Peter’s “fears” were proven true when the older slipped a hand between his thighs. This was going to be a long night.

•••••

The wind howled loudly in his ears. For some reason, a storm always followed in his footsteps, causing more destruction than what he and his pack left behind.

He stopped to taste the air, hoping to find something familiar. He growled when he didn’t, turning to face his second-in-command.

“Find her,” the Wolf ordered, standing back up on his hind legs.

Twisted Foxy trudged onwards, Freddy close behind him. Bonnie remained where he stood, exercising his jaw. Like his brethren, he was hungry for fresh meat.

“She must be near,” the monster growled softly. “Your instincts have never proven us wrong before.”

As much as Twisted Bonnie tried reassuring him, the Wolf denied any emotional help. He was a leader, not a follower. He must prove himself worthy.

Which was why he was planning on doing this alone.

“Go with them,” he said. When Bonnie didn’t move, he barked menacingly, sending the rabbit bolting away into the overgrowth.

The Wolf raised his head to look at the evening sun. In hours he would reach his full potential. His first mission alone couldn’t be failed. And besides, this mission was driven only with a thirst of blood and revenge. Master will pay for what he has done. Never again will the Wolf, nor his pack, be abandoned and left to rot again.

He turned in the opposite direction of where the others had gone and began running. He didn’t know where, but what he did know was that he was at least going in the right direction. Yes, he could see it now…

Outside the woods. Farther than he had travelled before, yet not far from that. His master was in the city. But something was wrong. There was another.

Which meant another delicious meal.


	3. Midnight's Horrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a mysterious vision, which makes him wonder if the books are also depicting real events. Meanwhile, Erin is assaulted suddenly by a mysterious figure and his pet Twisted Animatronics.

As dawn quickly approached, the birds were already chirping their heads off. Spring mornings were the worst thing that could happen to someone with a hangover — or someone who had been up all night having fun.

Luckily Peter’s apartment walls were mostly soundproof, but that didn’t stop the birdsong from reaching through the windows. He groaned in annoyance, grabbing his pillow and putting it over his head. These goddamned birds needed to burn in hell.

He hated mornings. Especially when he had a migraine with William’s name on it. Last night, his shared consciousness’s thoughts were so jumbled and off-track that it hurt, which was why Peter usually rejected any opportunity to have sex at all. But the aftermath was kind of worth it, since his partner was just so adorable when he was sleeping. Normally, Afton hid in the back of Peter’s mind to sleep. But after so much stimulation, it was hard to have the strength or tolerance to do so.

Now Peter lifted the pillow from his head to peek at William, whose face was relatively close to his own. The other’s eyes were closed in blissful and relaxed slumber, and his tiny, quiet snores were even more of a heart-throb. It was so entertaining that Peter could watch him for hours and not get tired. Mostly because of the little snippets of thoughts and dialogue from his dreams he caught were just too hilarious to miss out on.

 ** _The cake doesn’t belong in the pond, Dennis,_** William suddenly growled subconsciously. At the same time, his face contorted into pure annoyance. Peter stifled a giggle.

**_Now look what you did; you poisoned the manatees._ **

Now Peter burst into soft giggles, covering his mouth and trying so hard not to laugh that his eyes watered.

**_Just because you came from Chernobyl doesn’t mean you have the right to act like a stoned goose._ **

Maybe it was Peter’s wheezing laughter that caused William’s eyes to flutter open and close for a second, but it could also be the thoughts in his head that questioned his boyfriend’s sanity.

 ** _Dennis, I swear to God I will suffocate you in a heap of cacti,_** William hissed, angrily flipping over to his other side.

Peter frowned a bit, disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see William’s facial expressions anymore. This right here was comedy gold.

Suddenly William’s thoughts cut off abruptly, and his form even glitched out for a second. In fact, all the sounds in the world seemed to mute themselves, drowning Peter in a terrifying silence.

Then his ears began to ring.

No, it wasn’t his ears. It was the only noise that was heard in this world of silence. It was coming from something in this room. But not only that, it sounded scarily familiar. Peter tried hard not to let the memory play in his head…

It was one year ago, during his second Trial. He had gone face-to-face with Nightmare Fredbear, winning only because William had saved him from being eaten alive. But there was one sound that mixed in with the rest in that moment that made Peter’s stomach turn. It was pitched in a way that was high, yet it was quiet. His brain seemed to be covered in fluff as he had gaped at his attacker.

Then he realized why. Illusion chips. That was the sound. And there was something nearby that had one.

Another sound echoed through the room. A low, deep howl echoed in Peter’s mind, though it was still distant. But it still made his blood feel like it turned to ice, chills running down his spine.

Nightmare Fredbear hadn’t been his only fear. Now that he thought about it, there was one more character that chilled him to the core, but it never appeared in any game; It was in a book. _The Twisted Ones_ had introduced an entirely new character to the franchise, and it was one without a name. The Wolf was its only title, and it was the most lethal thing yet. Equipped with springlocks, dagger-like teeth, large talons, and an illusion chip that could turn it into your worst nightmare, it truly was a horror of the ages. Screw Fredbear. That canine was much more terrible.

And it was real.

Of course, Peter had dwelled on the fact that since the game characters were real, the ones in the books could exist as well. But the thoughts were really nightmares he had faced in the past year, some ending up with him at the slobbering jowls of the Wolf. William had ignored or shoved off any questions about the Twisted Ones overall, which made Peter’s fear worse. Usually when he did that, it meant that he was hiding the truth. Which meant in this case that the Twisted Ones were very real.

The howl sounded again, this time colder and less refined. It was slightly malfunctioned, indicating that it was still not in control of its illusions.

Then slowly, the world’s sounds came back. Peter was jolted back to reality when William’s thoughts came back full force. But they weren’t that funny anymore. All Peter could think about at the moment was that he just witnessed his other worst fear come to life.

William suddenly turned back over to face peter, his eyes open halfway and clearly still exhausted. “Do you mind?” he grumped, glaring playfully.

But Peter couldn’t smile back. He kept his eyes locked on a book on a shelf from across the room; a blue one, with dignified red and silver letters and a black shape on the cover. _The Twisted Ones_ was the thickest book in the trilogy, and it wasn’t that hard to single out among the other FNaF books on the shelf; _The Silver Eyes, The Fourth Closet, The Ball Pit, Fetch,_ and both editions of _The Freddy Files_. It didn’t surprise him that they were all the books that he owned at the moment.

“Something wrong?” William pressed, attempting to follow Peter’s gaze.

“You never answered my question,” Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“On..?”

“The Twisted Ones. They’re real, aren’t they?”

William quickly blocked all of his thoughts. Now _that_ was something to worry about. Peter felt his blood boil in anger, which was something he hardly ever felt. He couldn’t tolerate this any longer.

“I swear to God, if there’s something out there that wants to kill me and you know about it, you’ll regret even looking my direction a year ago,” he snapped. “I’m tired of you keeping secrets, William. Especially if it concerns our safety.”

William dropped his gaze in guilt, letting out a soft sigh. He was hesitant before bringing down the shield in his mind. And what Peter saw wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

~*^*~

Even though the book series wasn’t all that canon to the games, it still had some elements that were crucial in understanding the lore. The Twisted ones weren’t just animatronics made up just for the heck of it; they were very real. It took a lot for Fazbear Entertainment to cover up their rampaging path of destruction, for the company had to first find the monsters before erasing all memories and evidence of their tyranny.

Only very few people kept the Twisted Ones dear in their minds, and not very many of them were still alive. William, and perhaps Henry, were the only ones that knew the truth behind the beasts.

William had created the illusion chips alongside Henry for one sole purpose: Twisting the mind to no limits. Henry was in denial of his daughter’s death, just as William was cross over his family’s downfall. While Henry used the illusion chips to bring back his daughter, William used them for torture.

The first animatronics with illusion chips were the nightmares, which were used to torment Michael. When they proved successful, it was then that William had an undying thirst of revenge for his loved ones.

He thought that Henry didn’t deserve to have his daughter back. Why was Charlie so perfect, yet Michael’s recreation just didn’t feel _right_? It just wasn’t fair.

The Twisted Ones were created to hunt down whoever he chose, with no hesitation of slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. The only thing was that William had died before he could see the end of the Hunt. He supposed that they either ended up killing Henry, or that their prey had outsmarted them and forced them back.

It was only until recently that he discovered that his creations were still alive. It was actually five minutes ago, to be precise. Peter wasn’t the only one who had been given the Omen.

Those who were given the Omen were destined to be the next in line of the Hunt, and there was almost no way at all to stop the Twisted Ones from brutally killing you.

It scared William slightly, knowing that he wasn’t the one who had programmed himself or Peter into the Wolf’s murder list. Someone was out there with access to their mainframe, and they apparently wanted him dead.

William watched Peter’s expression go from angry to pained, then to confusion. His thoughts were slow and carefully chosen, as if he was scared of what Afton would say to the wrong thing. But all that William _could_ elaborate on was the fact that the younger was pale with fear, even quivering.

“I’m sure I can stop them,” William offered, placing a hand on Peter’s. “I created them. They can’t deny the orders of their own father.”

“How’d that work out for you before?” Peter grumbled quietly.

William frowned, remembering the triumphant expression on Michael’s face when they had both burned to the final breath. In his final minutes, he had begged his son for mercy, trying over and over to apologize for the torture he had put him through. But Michael’s only reaction hadn’t been regretful. It was more of a face that said _you brought this upon yourself._ And it was the truth, too, but William refused to believe that. He told himself a million times a day that it was Michael’s fault. It was Michael that let his own father burn alive not once, but twice. It was Michael that sent William to hell, to his eternal purgatory and punishment. Cassidy was only half the problem.

“You can’t blame him for something he didn’t do,” Peter suddenly said. “All he was trying to do was bring himself to peace knowing that you wouldn’t be around to hurt anyone else. He wanted to free those trapped souls that you imprisoned.”

“I’m the one who brought him back to life; He should be grateful!” William hissed.

Peter flinched at that remark, carefully pulling his hand out from under William’s and placing it on his lap.

 _Oh great,_ William thought sourly. _I scared him._

“Look, just don’t mention him. We’ve gone over that.”

“I didn’t _say_ his name,” Peter retorted under his breath.

William growled internally, but he decided to drop it, as it was no use to be pissed off at someone he would never get away from. So he waited until Peter rolled over to his other side, back to his partner, before he moved himself so that he was spooning the smaller male. He ran his fingers through Peter’s chocolate brown hair, hoping that moments like these would never end.

“What are you, horny again?” Peter suddenly growled.

“No,” William quickly responded. He felt his face grow hot in embarrassment. “Can’t I just be nice?”

“That’d be a first.”

William scoffed in offense. So without further ado, he faded away to the back of his partner’s mind out of anger. Peter hardly noticed, which made him even more peeved. Hopefully any other human that had merged with an animatronic was having better luck outside the facility.

•••••

“ _Must_ you be so annoying?”

“I’m only trying to catch up to you.”

Erin moaned in exasperation, trying not to let his hands shake as he carefully placed a small ball of Raw Remnant in a jar with many others of its kind. Afterwards, he pointed an accusing finger at his shared consciousness.

“Just stop letting your little pets near my collection,” he hissed, swatting another particle of Dark Remnant away.

Shadow Bonnie narrowed his eyes, but he silently willed the particles to gather around him once more. “They’re free spirits. I can’t force them to do whatever I want them to,” he retorted. He watched one circle his finger, a bored expression on his face.

“Try me,” Erin muttered.

“Ha! Don’t forget who we’re examining next.”

That made Erin’s posture wilt a bit under fear. A chill went up his spine as he eyed the largest golden Remnant fragment that was in the jar of unexamined Remnant.

“Why couldn’t we have given her to her arch nemesis?” he asked himself out loud. “It would make my life so much easier.”

Cassidy’s orb glowed brightly in protest, and it rammed itself against the glass of its prison roughly. Though the jar didn’t break.

“How’s that enameled glass working for you?”

“Stop taunting her,” Bonnie scolded. “I mean, unless you want to be disintegrated. Go ahead, it’ll be the most entertaining thing I’ll have seen all day.”

Erin rolled his eyes, very cautiously and slowly opening the jar. Almost immediately after he took the lid off, Cassidy’s soul bolted out, bouncing recklessly around the small room before being surrounded by a swarm of Dark Remnant. Well, at least they were good for _one_ thing. Erin turned to look at his partner, who had a hand outstretched at the Remnant, bringing his little soldiers closer to him.

 ** _You must be more careful,_** the shadow sighed subconsciously, closing his fist around the soul. It made a high-pitched screech as he injected his Remnant into it, which had very unique paralysis and narcotic properties. The golden light faded a little, proving that the injection had done its job. Shadow Bonnie then handed the Remnant to Erin, crossing his arms afterwards.

The two had been experimenting with new ways to use Remnant for the past year, picking up where they had left off at the testing facility. After the defeat of Cassidy, everyone had been dismissed so that the company could clean up the mess William and Peter had left behind. But apparently Help Wanted 2 had been cancelled due to “technical difficulties” and “loss of inspiration”. Not many people cared, seeing as how unpopular Five Nights at Freddy’s was at the moment. Then again, the movie did suck.

Right now they were on the verge of a breakthrough; They had just discovered a very rare variant of Remnant, and it wasn’t raw. This particular source was found in spots on the forest floor, indicating that the carrier was injured. No other animatronic manufactured by Fazbear Entertainment had this type, which was why Erin was testing and cleansing the Remnant he did have to see if it matched any of them, but had proven unsuccessful so far. It reminded him of when he was trying to track down William a year ago, and those were _not_ good memories.

Erin was just about to take a syringe to Cassidy’s Remnant when his door burst open. He cried out in surprise, dropping the soul. It drifted to the ground, but luckily did not perish. Now pissed, Erin turned to face whoever had walked in.

“If you’re here for money or belongings, good luck with that,” he called out, expecting a burglar, but found something entirely different. Even Shadow Bonnie was drawn back in surprise.

The figure was almost entirely encased in the darkness, which made it harder to decipher whether they were male or female. But the broad shoulders and short hair pointed out that this was a man. But he wasn’t a normal human being. His eyes shone like those of an animatronic’s, dark blue and menacing. Erin glanced at his partner, expecting the rabbit to take the liberty to chase him down, and Bonnie expecting himself to do that as well, but he was stopped mid-step when a second pair of eyes made themselves visible. This figure had a bulky outline, with a familiar top hat and rounded ears. This particular Freddy had eyes that burned blood-red like a couple flaring embers. His predatory growls were only half of what made him menacing. There was a high-pitched ringing sound that echoed throughout the workshop, making Erin’s brain slow its thought process.

“You’re coming with me,” the man next to the beast said coldly. Even his voice was a bit mechanical, but still human in a way.

“And if I don’t?” Erin asked bitterly. His hand gripped a knife (the one he had used to dissect a few orbs of Raw Remnant) in instinct of self-defense.

“My good friend here has been dying for the first meal he’s had in over four decades.”

Freddy made a low, guttural snarl in reply.

_Who is this wise-ass?_

**_Someone everyone thought to be dead nearly fifteen years now._ **

“ _Your_ friend, on the other hand, can stay behind,” the man added, new hostility lining his voice.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Shadow Bonnie hissed, the same hostility in his own distorted voice. A newfound swarm of Dark Remnant began circling him, which was his show of territorial defense.

The man then stepped into the dim light, his face becoming visible. Erin gasped softly when he saw that the skin was partially melted, revealing what appeared to be an advanced endoskeleton underneath. On top of that, spots of dried Remnant were splattered across his face, along with fresh Remnant dripping from the open skin. This wasn’t a human at all. This was an android; And one that had been designed by Fazbear Entertainment, at that.

“I wasn’t built by Fazbear Entertainment, my dear friend,” the android laughed. “I was constructed by an entirely different mind — a twisted one, to be honest. Father never was in the right mind after my sister’s death.”

 _Michael Afton,_ Erin’s mind reeled in disbelief. He was surprised he hadn’t realized it before. But how in the hell had he survived that fire?

 ** _Must run in the family,_** Shadow Bonnie answered sarcastically.

Michael frowned, his blue eyes burning even more intensely than before. “I’d watch what you think around me,” he said. “My accomplice relays everything he hears.”

The beast that remained standing in the door stepped forwards now, and Erin felt even more terrified than he had ever felt before in his miserable excuse of a life. He hadn’t even pondered on the Twisted Ones’ existence until now.

Twisted Freddy huffed a hot breath in Erin’s face, drool dripping from his mouth full of fangs. The thing was absolutely massive; an entire two feet taller than Shadow Bonnie, who was half a foot taller than Erin. Then again, they were designed to devour people whole.

“Now, I’m going to ask you a couple questions, and you’re going to answer with complete honesty,” Michael cooed. “Or else _he_ will be more than happy to tear you into bite-sized pieces.”

Erin gulped. “Of course. Whatever information can I divulge you in?”

“Where is my father?”

**_Don’t answer him._ **

“No clue.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. False answers will be met with a torturously slow death. I’ll ask one more time; _Where_ is my father?”

Twisted Freddy licked his jowls, another hot, putrid breath staining Erin’s senses. He panicked, not knowing what to do. He looked at Shadow Bonnie, who was channeling even more dark energy to fight with. But suddenly his mind went all fuzzy, his mouth moving on its own without any permission.

“In the city, with his own shared consciousness. But where, I honestly don’t know.”

Michael smiled grimly, snapping his fingers. Freddy immediately retreated to his side again, growling at the fact that he didn’t get his meal.

“Thank you kindly,” he said cheerfully. He made a short, yet seemingly insane giggle. “We will be taking our leave now.”

Freddy growled again, but turned to duck outside the doorframe, Michael following at his heels. Shadow Bonnie made a mechanical scream, glitching out of sight before reappearing in front of the Twisted One, raising a hand. Dark Remnant shot out of it, embedding itself into the furred skin of the monster. Twisted Freddy howled in pain, using his freakishly long talons to rake at the air. Michael growled in annoyance, and he looked back at Erin with a very displeased expression.

Then two more unique growls and hisses entered the house, followed by glass shattering and wood breaking. A blur of burnt red and pale brown barreled into Shadow Bonnie, knocking the glitch to the ground. In result, the particles of Dark Remnant bolted every which way, disappearing without a trace as to where they went. Twisted Foxy snapped his jaw at the rabbit below him, both rows of teeth glinting in the dim lighting. Another shape made itself visible, its mouth splitting into three before it made an ear-shattering screech.

Erin had no clue what to do. He panicked, feet glued to the floor even when Shadow Bonnie made a static howl of pain. He felt his chest seize up in shared pain, but he hardly flinched. So this was what true fear felt like. It was terrifying.

But in the midst of all the pain and terror, his mind went to one thing. He eyed the sticky note that was stuck on the wall above his desk, a phone number etched in familiar handwriting printed on its yellow paper. He grabbed it, just in time to see everything go white. Shadow Bonnie had come to his fight-or-flight response, fleeing from the impossible odds of surviving the fight.

Soon Erin found himself in unfamiliar woodland, with Shadow Bonnie crumpled on the ground in front of him, white-hot Remnant leaking from a huge gash in the rabbit’s chest.

“Bon, you alright?” Erin asked, kneeling before his friend.

“I’ll be f-fine,” the shadow breathed. “Been through — nng — worse.” He then proceeded to cough up more of his life-blood, which melted through the grass underneath him.

Erin felt the pain, scared that he was going to lose the stupid shared consciousness again. They had just been reunited, too.

“You wanted to find William,” Shadow Bonnie said after a moment of silence.

“Your point?”

“Why would you want to do that? You never wanted anything to do with him at all after what happened.”

“I have a feeling that he would know what to do in this situation,” Erin explained. “He’s the one that designed Michael, if that doesn’t sound weirder than it already did in my head.”

Bonnie sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on the soft grass — or what was left of it. “He would, wouldn’t he? But how would we get to them before his own son?”

“We have Peter’s number.”

“Ah. That would do it.”

Erin chuckled slightly. If that remark wasn’t hilarious already, it was his partner’s British accent that added the golden lining to the joke.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth when he saw that the screen was cracked. That must have been an outcome from when he fell after the teleportation. But as it turned on, he was just glad it still worked.

Hopefully it wasn’t too early.

•••••

**_Peter._ **

_I’m_ trying _to sleep._

**_Then answer you goddamn phone._ **

_It’s probably another telemarketer. If it’s important, it’ll go to voicemail._

**_Answer the phone._ **

Peter groaned, not even opening his eyes to grab his phone off his nightstand. He sighed before answering it, not bothering to see who it was before doing so.

“It’s eight in the morning,” he muttered.

_“Peter! Oh, thank God!”_

“Erin?”

**_Erin? What’s he want?_ **

_Shut up and let me ask!_

_“Is William available right now?”_

That caught Peter by surprise. “Um, sure? Why?”

_“Important question.”_

Peter half-heartedly handed the smartphone to William, who materialized on the bed next to him.

“Santa’s Workshop, what’s your favorite color?” he said, leaning back against the pillows. Peter had to hide his face in his covers to prevent his laughter from becoming too audible.

“I see. Where are you?”

Peter, still wheezing, lifted his head up to see William’s expression. But it was far from lighthearted.

“Well, that doesn’t help at all. Ask your little friend who’s dying on the ground there,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked, already getting out of bed and finding some clothes.

William pulled the phone away before answering, “Erin just had an encounter with our twisted puppeteer. He’s in the woods somewhere with Shadow Bonnie, who’s dying to a fatal wound.” He then put the phone to his ear again, furrowing his brow. “What’s that? I wasn’t listening.” He then pulled the phone away again. “Somewhere near the old Jr’s location.”

“Well, at least we get to do a bit of sightseeing,” Peter replied, pulling a shirt on over his head.

“Sorry, kid, they tore it down years ago.”

“That’s a shame.”

After a while, William handed the phone back to Peter, dematerializing again. **_Fastest way is through teleportation. You up for it?_**

_I guess._

His partner gave no warning, almost immediately taking the liberty to cause Peter’s vision go completely lime green before ending up in the middle of the forest. It wasn’t that thick with greenery as the others he had gone to, but it was still dark despite the sun being as bright as inhumanely possible.

It wasn’t long before he spotted a trail of white Remnant that led to a bunch of shrubs. Peter stepped over a large branch before following it, nearly scaring the shit out of himself when he nearly ran into a tree he didn’t notice (somehow).

“Well, if you’re gonna be _that_ tired, then I can just show myself home.”

Peter whipped around to face Erin, who looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He resisted the urge to flip him off. So instead he huffed in offense, crossing his arms.

“Oh, stop being such a toddler,” William growled playfully, cuffing Peter over the head.

“Apparently toddlers are your kink,” Peter retorted, earning himself a flustered and surprised stutter from his boyfriend.

“William?” Erin gaped at the newcomer, apparently not expecting him to be human. “Nevermind, I’m not gonna ask.”

“Good,” William replied, “because I have no idea either.”

“helloooooo? Dying spirit over here!”

“Stick a carrot in it, tin can!” Erin yelled at Shadow Bonnie, who had limped his way out from behind the bush. The animatronic rabbit was clutching his chest, where Remnant was basically pouring out, staining his pitch-black shadowy figure pure white.

“So, what hit him again?” William asked before approaching the spirit.

“I didn’t see it, but I can guess it was a wound from Twisted Foxy.”

“Hmm. Sounds familiar.” William absentmindedly rubbed his chest, where just a year ago had been torn inside-out by Grim Foxy’s hook.

Peter remembered that clearly, mostly because of the pain and heartbreak it had put him through. William had died almost instantly, which was terrifying and mind-breaking to anyone who loses a shared consciousness. But luckily, it was Erin that had unexpectedly brought him back — but not without a few “side effects”.

Shadow Bonnie flinched when William lived his hand away from the gash. Afton studied it closely, but not so much as touching the Remnant.

“It’s pretty deep, but nothing that won’t heal over time,” he finally said after a while.

“Animatronics can heal themselves?” Peter asked aloud, but it sounded much less ridiculous in his head.

“Certain ones can. But others, like, say, the original Chica, can’t. Those have to be repaired manually,” William explained. “Where do you think my wound went after I died when Foxy took me out?”

“I thought Erin patched it up.”

“Ha! Like I would touch his filth,” Erin barked.

“Watch what you say,” William hissed. “Remember who’s handling this.”

Erin went silent, his jaw closing with an audible _clack_ of his teeth.

“So,” Peter said suddenly, trying to change the subject. “Who was controlling them? Anyone we would know?”

“Not you, but most likely William.”

William’s movements faltered, causing his hand to almost touch the Remnant. He hesitated before asking who it was.

“Picture a certain android bursting the door open and screaming, ‘Hooty-hoo, guess who survived certain death’ and then proceeding to use his father’s own creations to rip apart his enemies. Ring a bell?”

William’s color completely drained from his face, turning it into a ghostly white. His eyes were wide, his body even beginning to tremble. “No. No, he died. I watched him breathe his last breath,” he rambled, shaking his head. “There was no way in hell he could have escaped that fire. The roof caved in on top of him, for fuck’s sake!”

“Explain that to his half-melted face,” Shadow Bonnie muttered, sitting down on the grass with a plop. “I’ll never forget those cold eyes. They were like little orbs of destruction, and that’s saying something, granted I’ve seen plenty of evil things.”

William still was pale, his breath turning shaky and uneven. Peter could have felt his confusion and fear from a mile away. It was scary, given the fact that there was almost nothing that could terrify William to the core like this, which consisted of a small circle of Cassidy, springlocks, fire, and his own son.

“Where did he go?” Peter asked Erin, who shrugged.

“I told him you guys were in town, but I suppose he’ll figure out that you left. Those beasts of his can sniff out anything.”

“I should have known it was him,” William whispered to the sky. “He was the only one alive that knew about those monsters.”

“How do we stop him? Surely there’s a way,” Peter said hesitantly, moving to William’s side. The taller shook his head.

“If there is, I don’t know about it. Only their master can stop their current Hunt, and I doubt Michael will have a sudden change of heart for his murderous and deranged father.”

Suddenly a twig snapped loudly from the thickest of the overgrowth. All four of them turned towards the sound, Shadow Bonnie taking the initiative to summon a few particles of Dark Remnant to protect them.

Then William’s eyes widened in pure fear, his mouth opening and closing before he howled, “Get down!”

Peter took no hesitation to leap to the ground, and he just barely missed seeing a flash of gray pass overhead. It followed by a dog’s yelp of pain and the rustle of ferns. Peter sat up from the dirt, trying to catch the figure that had just attempted to attack them.

The Wolf stared menacingly back at him, jaw open partially with drool dripping onto the grass. It crept forwards on all fours, growling ferociously.

Then William stepped in between it and its target, preventing Peter from seeing the creature. He sent out a shockwave of lime green energy, forcing the Wolf back into the bushes. Though the monster took no time to give its wounds a lick, pelting forwards and pinning William to the ground. The movement caused Afton to lose his wind, a cough escaping his lips before the Wolf went to sing its fangs into his neck. But William moved out of the way just in time, and the Wolf smashed its snout into the dirt. It drew back, snorting the dirt out of its nostrils. This allowed William to scramble out from under it, sending it away with another shockwave.

The Wolf yelped again, its realistic composure breaking away and revealing the animatronic underneath. Meanwhile William yanked Peter off the ground by his arm, proceeding to pick him up bridal-style and turning to Erin.

“We’re leaving,” he said plainly, walking past the confused scientist.

“Leaving? To go where?” Erin asked. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Shadow Bonnie, who was currently holding the Wolf down with a horde of Dark Remnant.

William stopped in his tracks, his eyes searching his surroundings for an answer. He then shrugged and continued walking, calling back, “I just hope none of you have a fear of being below ground for more than a day.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Um. I don’t think—“

“Don’t agree with him in front of me,” William interrupted with a slight growl to his tone.

Erin was soon caught up to them, but he kept looking back. “We can’t run from that thing!” he protested. “Bon can’t hold him off for much longer!”

“Then we’ll teleport. But I can’t guarantee that we won’t end up buried in a couple feet of dirt. It has been a while since I’ve been to the facility.”

“What? You — I mean, why would you — _Excuse me?_ ”

Peter was just as bewildered, but he had no time to elaborate on that before the world went green again. Within seconds, he found himself on the ground, back to cold steel flooring. It wasn’t until he sat up to shake away his vertigo when he screamed.

Just inches away from his face was the infamous scooper, cool gray steel stained red with blood.


	4. A Day of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The underground facility is unexpectedly quiet without Shadow Bonnie there, and Erin begins to wonder if he wants more than friendship with his shared consciousness after walking in on William and Peter. Meanwhile, Shadow Bonnie is brought to Michael's hands and open for torture.

Peter screamed again, scrambling away from the death-ridden machine. But when he hands grazed a smooth rounded surface, he stopped himself. He turned, only to scream once more. But he caught himself mid-screech to discover that the animatronic head before him was dismantled from its body, clearly never going to wake up.

It was Ballora’s, distinguished by her human-like face and blue “hair” molded into a bun on the back of her head. It was slightly terrifying, to say the least, but at least there was nothing inside. Not anymore.

“Ah. Not the best thing to open your eyes to, is it?” William chirped, chuckling a little at his own remark. “So sorry. But hey! At least we’re not buried!”

“In a way,” muttered Erin’s voice. He took one look at the pool of blood splattered on the ground and covered his mouth, clearly trying not to throw up.

They were indeed many feet below ground, the only thing separating them from open space and a cavernous field of soil being a foot-thick layer of steel and concrete. It didn’t help with the fact that there was relatively limited oxygen and the idea that there could have been some animatronics left behind.

Peter went to stand up, grimacing when he realized that he had been sitting in the majority of the blood spill. But then he remembered that it was all artificial. But it was still disgusting. He turned to face William, who was intently watching Erin. The man was doubled over and _really_ trying hard not to empty his last meal onto the floor.

“Why would you bring us here of all places?” Peter asked him.

“Well, for one thing, it’s underground,” William explained. “On the other hand, the Twisted Ones can’t sniff us out down here. Lastly, it’s quite spacious down here. It gives us a lot of room to do whatever we like while we hatch a new plan as to how the fuck we’re gonna kill Michael.” His last words seemed forced, his smug expression faltering for a moment. It was obvious that he didn’t want to think about killing his own son.

“Is there food?” Erin mused.

William lost his smile. “Perhaps. Do you like butter?”

Peter laughed. “How old would said butters be?”

“A couple decades, give or take.”

Erin hurled again. “I’d take my chances with the stale oxygen.”

There was a long silence. It wasn’t until Peter was about to ask William what they were supposed to do that Erin made a cry of despair.

“Bon’s not here!” he howled, turning his head frantically to try and catch a hopeful glimpse of the shadow. “He must have stayed behind!”

“He’s _your_ shared consciousness; Talk to him,” William grumbled.

“Oh. Right. Good call.”

Erin then went absolutely quiet, even closing his eyes in attempt to search for his lost friend. Meanwhile, William put an arm around Peter’s waist, leading the smaller male out of the scooping room and into Funtime Auditorium. Normally, it would be pitch black, but thanks to William, Peter could see everything quite clearly using a form of night vision. The auditorium was relatively empty, given the lone stage that was situated by one of the far corners. It was a bit creepy, to be honest.

“How do you feel about checking out the private room?” William said, breaking the eerie silence.

“Um… sure?”

“Great! Just perfect!”

Peter was practically shoved across the room, William’s arm still tightly wrapped around his waist. There was a clear trail of blood from there to the scooping room, and it made Peter’s skin crawl.

But William’s intentions hadn’t been at all what Peter thought them out to be. As soon as that door was closed, he pushed him against the wall, pressing his lips firmly against the other’s. Peter made a muffled yelp of surprise, but recuperated in a way that allowed him to sink into the kiss. It was very passionate and heavy, and a feeling that the younger would ever get tired of. William’s lips were surprisingly soft, and he was obviously very experienced in this kind of matter.

It wasn’t long until Peter felt his partner’s tongue prod at his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth slightly to allow him entry. A year ago, he would have had no clue what to do in this kind of situation. But after that first night when William expressed his love for him in a way he never had done before, it was embedded in his mind like someone had branded it there.

Of course, sex was the last thing on Peter’s mind after their recent escapade from certain death (especially since he had just done that last night). But now that changed. As William shoved his tongue in his mouth, he felt a flush of endorphins and lust flow through his body. It was nerve-wracking, but pleasant at the same time. Peter found himself reaching up to grasp at William’s hair, which was silkier than it looked to be, tugging on the black locks lightly. That only earned him a playful growl from Afton, his shared consciousness kissing him even deeper.

But before they could go farther, the door burst open, revealing a very exhausted Erin. His tired look contorted into shock and disgust, eyes wide as he stared at the two’s position. It was only then that Peter realized that he had wrapped a leg around William’s waist. He put it back down to the floor, pushing William away during the kiss. Afton’s eyes fluttered open in surprise, clearly not fazed by Erin’s presence. Peter cleared his throat, then turned to smile meekly at the scientist.

“Hey,” he said, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

Erin gaped at them, eyes dancing from him to William and back again. “I, uh…” he began, closing his mouth and swallowing roughly. “Sorry to interrupt anything.”

“No, you weren’t interrupting _anything_ ,” Peter replied, shooting a glare full of accusing daggers at William, who had his arms crossed and was sitting on the desk. He was evidently pissed that his fun was ruined.

“Um, well, in that case,” Erin stuttered, “I can’t find him. There’s no trace of his mind anywhere, but I didn’t feel him die.”

“Strange,” was William’s only response, his eyes flicking downwards at his hands.

“I don’t think he’s dead. He must be in hiding, or captured. I would prefer the first over the other, but I have a feeling it’s not like that,” Erin continued.

Peter gave Erin a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe Michael can do some crazy shit like tracking people’s thoughts now.” He then stopped himself, realizing what he was saying. “Aw, hell. If he can do that, then—“

“—then we’re screwed,” William finished for him, huffing in exasperation. “But that’s impossible. Perhaps Shadow Bonnie just doesn’t want to reach out to Erin because he’s surrounded by mind-readers. Replying to him would allow them to know his location.”

“I’m right here,” Erin muttered. But William either didn’t hear him, or just flat-out ignored him. It made Erin’s already cross expression become angrier.

“Will, stop being an asshole,” Peter admonished.

“I’ll stop being an asshole when that thing—“ William jabbed a thumb at Erin “—stops thinking of the best possible way to get rid of me.”

“I do not—“

Erin’s retort was cut off by a loud _clang_. All three men turned to face the door to the right of the office, William sliding off of the desk to move closer. Peter, on the other hand, took a step back from the noise, heart pounding against his chest. There was no way that something could still be down here after Ennard’s escape. Could there?

 ** _Stay here,_ **William ordered. He walked out the door, enveloped in darkness.

The remaining two exchanged paranoid and terrified glances, Erin even taking a side-step closer to Peter despite himself.

There was sudden loud cussing from William in the distance, followed by a high-pitched mechanical screech. A flash of green then emitted from the darkness.

Seconds later William returned, a very angry pink ball of angry metal in his hands. Bonnet screeched and nipped at his fingers, trying oh so terribly to get away rom his grip.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Peter said to himself. Bonnet was canon after all.

“Can someone _please_ get one of those crates?” William pleaded, outstretching his arms as far away from himself as possible to make Bonnet’s mission to tear his face clean off more difficult.

Erin and Peter both turned to look behind them, where a couple metal boxes were stacked amongst each other. Erin took one before Peter could, presenting it to William as fast as possible. Afton then practically shoved Bonnet in it, forcing the lid on despite the animatronic’s attempts to bust out.

Angry screeches and howls emitted from the box, sounding like a rabid raccoon on steroids. William then waved his hand, casting a thin layer of green particles over the container.

“There. No little bitches out to eat our faces anymore,” he decreed, setting it down. “You were saying, Erin?”

The mechanic shook his head as if he was clearing clouds from his mind. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I was just leaving.” Before he closed the door to the auditorium, though, he called back, “Just don’t get too loud!”

Peter looked at William, his eyes wide in embarrassment. A flirtatious smirk from the older made his brain shut down just by looking at it, and all the sudden the noise from the box wasn’t that audible anymore.

“Shall we?~”

•••••

Erin kicked aside a stray glass eyeball on the floor, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was muttering angrily to himself, trying to figure out how to reach out to Shadow Bonnie. But of course his only source of definite information was off fucking his own shared consciousness.

 _I should have known,_ he mumbled to himself. _How I didn’t realize they were homosexuals before, I have no idea._

He stopped mid-step, just then realizing that his own friend wasn’t there to elaborate further on that thought. It was weird, because he could still feel the rabbit’s cluster of a mind in the back of his own, just _there_. But no thoughts or statements or sarcastic remarks were being broadcasted.

It was very quiet all the sudden.

There was now a sort of emptiness tugging at Erin’s heart, almost forcing a tear out of his eyes. But he denied it, still determined to keep his pride.

But what was pride in a world like this? A world full of murder and terror and possessed animatronics and sorrow? Peter seemed to have just let that all sink in already, even starting a new branch of his life that consisted of him and William. Erin furrowed his brow, trying to understand why they loved each other.

Peter was kind and empathetic, while William was sadistic and just flat-out evil. They were complete opposites of each other, and it confused Erin to the core.

But he also related with it.

He was a thoughtful person himself, who shrugged off almost anyone who talked to or came near him. His shared consciousness, though, was sarcastic and funny; a ball of charismatic activity bouncing around in Erin’s head like one of those stupid songs that no one could forget. As annoying as it was when he was first paired with the rabbit, he became the one person he could confide in when times were rough. Which brought him to the old memory of when they first met.

A year and a half ago, Erin had just been hired to work for Fazbear Entertainment. He had no clue what he was walking into, and he most definitely didn’t even dwell on the fact that the animatronics and events were real. But the very first thing he was assigned to work with was an animatronic.

Shadow Bonnie was terrifying to look at, being a looming foot and a half taller than Erin. His lack of a solid form made the name _shadow_ stand out like a diamond in the rough. Even his white eyes were petrifying — ice cold and judgmental.

Erin had almost fainted at the sight of the rabbit, but his pride got the best of him. Instead, he just continued on with the work he was supposed to do, hardly even casting a glance in the glitch’s way.

But Bonnie had other ideas. The rabbit was constantly trying to get his attention, telling jokes and doing ridiculous things that were sure to get him in trouble later. While Erin tried to ignore him, he still was laughing on the inside. The one time Bonnie actually earned a glance from him was when the shadow was in the middle of a very cheesy dad joke.

“What does James Bond do before he goes to bed?” the rabbit had said, leaning forwards closer to Erin.

“I don’t know, what does he do?” Erin mumbled half-heartedly, trying to concentrate on his paperwork.

“He goes under covers.”

It was the first time Erin had genuinely laughed in a long time. Though he made no other remark, it was obvious that Shadow Bonnie was proud of himself by getting his partner’s attention. In fact, he was practically glowing with satisfaction.

Only days later was when Erin had been divulged in the information about shared consciousnesses. He had a choice between a select few animatronics that hadn’t been chosen yet, but to his disappointment, none of them were Shadow Bonnie. Emily, who was actually nicer at the time, had explained that the glitch had a particular job to do, but never said what that was. But Erin insisted that if he was going to share a mind with any random animatronic he hardly knew, it was going to be that overgrown Easter bunny dipped in too much chocolate.

He got his wish, and much to Shadow Bonnie’s surprise, to say the least. The rabbit was absolutely bewildered at the fact that he had been chosen outside of the selected animatronics, which was something that hardly happened. But he was overly happy as well, eagerly accepting Erin’s request.

For the rest of their time at the facility, they had become the closest pairing ever to come to existence. They were very hard workers, and usually never got distracted (except for the occasional dad joke, of course). It was only until Emily began showing an eviler side that Erin had questioned his position. The recent reveal of William’s imprisonment inside the game made the situation even more strange.

Besides that, he and Shadow Bonnie’s bond was unbreakable, and it still was to this day. Erin never elaborated on wether it was just friendship or love. But seeing William with Peter just minutes ago made him think about that for the first time.

He never set a complete sexuality for himself, just allowing his heart to go where it lead him. But he never did find love at all in his life, and he was completely fine with that. But now that he thought about it, Bonnie was the only special being in his life. But that didn’t mean that they loved each other, did it?

Suddenly Erin felt more confused than he began with.He didn’t know what his heart wanted. Was it even possible to love an animatronic. Well, apparently, due to Peter’s obvious infatuation with William. But Afton wasn’t an animatronic anymore. Shadow Bonnie would most likely forever remain the way he is.

Erin suppressed a strained whimper of loss and confusion. He just wanted his best buddy back, no matter what the cost. So, he sent out one last thought to the rabbit, hoping to get a response.

 _Please tell me where you are. I can’t handle being without you._ A moment’s hesitation, then _, I love you._

•••••

“No. No, no no. I’m _not_ letting you fuck me senseless while we’re trying to save lives.”

William frowned, but he made an agreeable shrug nonetheless. He eyed Peter up and down, his eyes hungry and lustful, but he remained where he was.

Peter sighed, taking a seat in the old, rusty office chair. He spun it around with the push of his foot, letting his head hang over the back. He was bored, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t going to succumb to sex of all things.

He soon felt the chair stop spinning when William put a hand on it. He mussed up Peter’s hair, then reached over him to let his hand hover over a keypad situated on the wall next to the monitors. He then proceeded to enter _1983_ into the system, kneeling down next to Peter to peer at the monitors as they jolted to life. One of the three remained staticky, while the others were slightly blurry. Yet it was easy to tell what they were attempting to show.

Michael’s old bedroom was displayed on one in its messy, rotted glory. The hallway where Plushtrap laid on the floor was on the other. Both were completely outdated and nearly past its lifespan, but the pictures shone through the best they could.

Peter heard William’s breath hitch, his boyfriend tapping the one monitor that was filled with static. It didn’t work, for it remained that way afterwards, if not worse. William sighed in exasperation, standing back up and moving around Peter to work with the other side of the desk.

 ** _You didn’t happen to see a key anywhere, did you?_** he asked subconsciously, opening the largest drawer in the desk.

 _Can’t say I have,_ Peter replied, letting his knee bounce over his other.

**_That’s a crying shame. But nothing I can’t handle._ **

William then practically yanked out the entire bottom of the steel drawer, tossing it aside like a rag doll. It turned out it wasn’t the bottom after all, for he began rummaging inside the contents in search of something in particular. After a couple moments, he made a cheer of triumph, pulling a small yellow folder out.

“The hell is that?” Peter asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Just a little something that I’m sure Erin would love to look at.” William handed the folder to Peter, then continued to search inside the drawer.

Peter opened it, his eyes skimming over a blueprint for the scooper. Underneath it was something he never saw before, which should have been at least mentioned in the books or in the script of a piece of game code. It was an entire file on what Remnant was, and how it could be collected and used.

Definitely something Erin would enjoy.

He couldn’t resist the temptation to read through it himself, more intrigued about the soul clusters than he had been before. But he hardly got past the first paragraph of notes when William snatched it away again, replacing its place in Peter’s hands with a weird-looking box. It was like the one they had entrapped Bonnet in (in which she was still howling in anger), but much smaller. It fit in the palm of his hand, but was heavy enough to need to be held by two.

“Open it,” William prompted, watching the box intently. His emerald eyes seemed to literally gleam in the dim light of the — oh hey, there was a light in here. Peter glanced up at the ceiling, suddenly intrigued by how he hadn’t noticed that before. But when William repeated his words, he looked back down at the box, unhooking its latch and popping the lid open.

Almost immediately a ball of bright blue Remnant bolted out, nearly ramming square in the center of Peter’s face. But it just skimmed his forehead (which still burned with the minuscule contact) and went to the ceiling, seeming to hesitate before zipping back down and then made a sharp turn to the left.

Peter jumped out of his seat, suddenly terrified that he just let something extremely important escape. But before he could scramble out the door to chase after it, William’s amused laughter made him skid to a stop.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “He needs to get out after all these years.”

“Who — what —“ Peter stammered, glancing back and forth between the box he opened — which he had tossed onto the floor during his pursuit of the Remnant— and the hallway outside the left door.

“After all, forty-three years can do a lot.” William turned to look behind him, where the Remnant had suddenly reappeared at. “Isn’t it, Michael?”

•••••

_One for the win. Two for the triumph. Three for the thrill. And four…_

Michael stopped in his tracks, glaring down at the ground. The Wolf wasn’t here. The other three peered past each other to watch his reaction, which he kept calm and collected. He made a mental note to scold them for their nosiness later.

He then walked past the three, eyeing over each one with a disappointed, judgmental gaze. They all turned their attention to the ground in guilt. They knew they were in trouble.

“So tell me,” Michael began quietly, putting both arms behind his back, “how you let them escape.”

None of them moved, nor spoke up. Their breathing slowed, as if doing so would make it harder for Michael to notice their fear. But all it did was make it more visible.

“No one? Perhaps it may have slipped your minds in the aftermath of your failure. Or you’re just scared to tell me why because you know I’ll get angry either way.” Michael stopped when he reached Twisted Foxy. He turned his head ever so slightly at the fox, and it was enough to make it cower instantly in fear, tail tucked between its bony legs.

“You know, I expected better from the likes of you,” Michael told Foxy. “You’re the fastest and very likely the most dangerous of your pack. With those traits, it should be impossible for your enemies to escape. Now…” Micheal leaned forwards, so much to the point that his nose was inches from Foxy’s, “explain how that rabbit escaped.”

Foxy whimpered, and, if possible, scrunched up in terror even more. “I gave him a pretty good wound, lad,” he tried, barely looking up. “He should be dead by now, so it would be a waste of time to search for him.”

“A waste of time,” Michael echoed, standing up straight again. “And, of course, you are correct.”

Foxy was drawn aback in surprise. “I am?”

The other two animatronics gazed at him with the same surprise and confusion. Twisted Foxy then cleared his throat, raising his head proudly.

“I mean, I knew that. Of course I’m right.”

Michael began laughing softly, the others following suit with nervous hesitation. I was only until Foxy began laughing as well that Michael screamed, “SILENCE!”

They all instantly shut their mouths, jumping back a couple inches.

“Imbeciles. All of you,” he reprimanded. “Shadow Bonnie will have teleported to God knows where by now, proving your mission unsuccessful. You wouldn’t want to be unsuccessful and useless, now would you?”

The three shook their heads, looking to the ground again. But before Michael could press them further, a loud howl broke through the stale air of the forest. The Wolf leaped from the overgrowth, a black body hung in its jaws. He dropped Shadow Bonnie at Michael’s feet, standing back up on his hind legs.

“I believe someone lost this,” it growled, shooting an accusing glare at his beta. Foxy whimpered, his tail twitching closer to himself for comfort.

Michael, for the first time in hours, smiled. “Dead, or alive?”

“Alive. He’s played dead the entire way.”

“Intriguing.” Michael nudged the shadowy mass with his foot, and his head lolled limply to the side in response. “Well done. You’ve certainly established yourself as the alpha. As for you—“ he turned to look at Twisted Foxy “your rank has been pushed from beta to omega.”

Foxy’s eyes widened. That was a huge drop. From being second-in-command to the lowest possible rank, this was the worst punishment possible besides death for a pack member. It could take years for him to claw his way back up the rankings.

“Bonnie, you’re taking his place.”

Twisted Bonnie stood straight, chest puffed out proudly. “It’s an honor, sir.”

“Now…” Michael turned his attention back to the prisoner. “Let’s see how much this one can handle before he breaks.”

**Author's Note:**

> On hiatus until I can find inspiration again qwq  
> so sorry about that!


End file.
